Witness to the Convolution
by EOlivet
Summary: Who were those eyewitnesses in TAIE(eee) who saw Grissom and Sara? Season 3 spoilers.


Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to Anthony Zuiker, Alliance Atlantis Productions and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Timeline: Mid-TAIE(eeeee). Starts after Wescott's questioning of Sara ends. Spoilers for season 3.  
  
Warning: I make no claims about the accuracy of the courtroom events described in here. I make no claims about anything in here -- this fic was written in two hours after a rep fed me cookies at a lunch meeting.  
  
A/N: This fic is firmly tongue-in-cheek and is just satisfying my urge to write a post-TAIE(eeeee) fic and answer the question "Who the heck was that eyewitness who saw the face-touch?" It's kind of a farce, but definitely not "Frasier" material. This piece contains shout-outs to everything from the message board to TWoP to the X- Files to individual fanfics. Hopefully I haven't offended anyone.  
  
Acknowledgments: To the G&S Yahoo! list for their feedback and the UtB board for their encouragement. Special thanks to VIgirl, who convinced me to post it here.  
  
Rating: TV-14.  
  
Archive: On G&S.com. Anyone else, please ask.  
  
***  
  
Witness to the Convolution  
  
***  
  
Marjorie Wescott was just about to conclude her cross-examination of Sara Sidle, when a clerk entered with two large packets of papers and dumped one of them on her desk and the other on the desk of the District Attorney. She flipped through her packet, scanning it thoroughly in a matter of minutes -- for as everyone knows, TV villains are either incredibly intelligent or incredibly stupid. For plot purposes, Marjorie Wescott was the former.  
  
"Just a minute, Your Honor. I have a few more questions for this witness," Wescott stated, staring pointedly at Sara.  
  
The judge looked over at the DA who, for plot purposes, did not object -- for he was neither a TV villain nor a member of the regular cast, and was therefore likely to be extremely two-dimensional while leaning towards the incredibly stupid.  
  
The judge sighed. "Proceed," he assented to the female defense attorney, whose eyes shone with a characteristic evil gleam before she continued. "Ms. Sidle, have you ever slept with your boss, Gil Grissom?"  
  
"Those are just theories and wild speculation!" Sara replied. "So I'm not sure it's the appropriate forum to discuss this topic."  
  
"Ms. Sidle, _I_ am the 'moderator' of this forum and we will discuss topics where I deem them fit to discuss," admonished the judge.  
  
"Your Honor," the DA interrupted at the most inopportune time. "There's no evidence to support this."  
  
"I hold in my hand," stated Wescott rather redundantly (since where else would one hold something?), "testimony from an informant who claims that Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle have, uh..." she glanced down at her packet of papers. "'boarded the U.S.S. Doin' It.'"  
  
"Cite your source!" exclaimed Sara, without thinking.  
  
"Ms. Sidle, do not speak unless this court addresses you. Now, you may answer Ms. Wescott's question."  
  
Sara looked down and sighed. "I...don't know."  
  
"You don't know?" repeated Wescott, both in disbelief and for dramatic effect.  
  
"There are...holes...in my backstory," Sara stated. "I don't even remember where I met Gil Grissom. It might've been at Harvard or in San Francisco or somewhere else entirely. I just know it was at a seminar somewhere. So if I can't even tell you where I met him, there's no way I can tell you if I've slept with him or not."  
  
Wescott sighed. "Fine," she declared, dropping the line of inquiry altogether, as she'd learned in the Chris Carter School of TV Character Development. "Have you ever asked your boss if he wanted to sleep with you?"  
  
"Objection!" cried the DA, in characteristic overdramatic fashion. "We've already established Ms. Sidle has romantic feelings for her boss -- there's no need to pursue this any further."  
  
"How have we established that?" Sara asked, indignantly.  
  
"Oh, please -- you brushed 'chalk' from his face? That's all you could think of?"  
  
Wescott thought a moment. "He's right, Your Honor," she conceded. "I have eyewitness accounts stating for a fact there was no chalk."  
  
"There was too chalk!" protested Sara, sounding like an angry child.  
  
"Ms. Sidle, I won't warn you again," said the judge. "Your objection is overruled. Answer the question: have you ever asked your boss, Gil Grissom, if he wanted to sleep with you?"  
  
"No," Sara answered.  
  
Wescott shook her head. "I have eyewitness testimony stating while you were working on the Kaye Shelton case, you asked Gil Grissom 'do you want to sleep with me'?"  
  
"How--well--I---yes, but there was context--"  
  
"Moving on," Wescott cut her off sharply. "Your Honor, let the record show that Ms. Sidle has committed multiple..." she glanced down at the packet. "'PSVs' against her boss."  
  
"Objection! PSVs?" questioned the DA.  
  
"Personal space violations," clarified the judge, before muttering. "A four-year old could figure it."  
  
"I'll give an example," Wescott offered. "You were supposed to be working the Mike Kimble case with your supervisor, Gil Grissom, but he was working the case without your help. So you..." she cleared her throat. "'thrust your boobs against his arm.'"  
  
"What?!" exploded Sara. "Give me a break, there's no way anybody--"  
  
"Your Honor, this testimony came with visuals, which I'm entering as Defense Exhibit B-O-P." Wescott handed the photo to the DA and then to the judge. "In light of this new evidence, I move that Ms. Sidle's testimony in the case of Tom Haviland be stricken from the record. This is not only a pattern for Ms. Sidle, but a compulsion."  
  
"Like water droplets on a glass," muttered the DA.  
  
"If the DA has no objection--" began the judge.  
  
"Wait!" exclaimed the DA, only now just having gotten through the similarly-sized packet placed on his desk. "I'd like to call a rebuttal witness: Gil Grissom."  
  
"Normally, Ms. Wescott would have to rest her case before you could call a rebuttal witness, but for plot purposes, I'm going to grant the DA's request."  
  
"The State calls Gil Grissom," declared the DA.  
  
Completely ignoring the fact that he should've still been in the lab pouring over tabloids with Greg and Catherine, Grissom magically and dramatically appeared through the courtroom doors. He took an oath and prepared to share his findings. "The waffle-shaped pattern--"  
  
"Dr. Grissom," interrupted the DA. "We've just heard testimony from Ms. Sidle that she touched your face during an investigation last year under the pretense there was actually chalk there. However, did you not touch her face in a similar manner during the case of one Laura Garris?"  
  
Grissom's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"  
  
"We have eyewitness testimony that states after you had rescued Mrs. Garris, you touched Ms. Sidle's face."  
  
"I...was...trying to make sure she was okay -- we had just unearthed a woman who was buried alive," Grissom answered cautiously -- bothered by the line of questioning, but having been raised properly by a mother who may or may not be alive, knew better than to talk back to the court.  
  
"Do you compliment your employees?" The DA changed his tact suddenly and for no reason.  
  
"Yes, when they do good work," Grissom responded.  
  
"I see. So when you told Ms. Sidle that you were interested in beauty since you met her, what part of her work were you complimenting then?"  
  
Grissom was silent and Sara now looked vaguely unsettled, as if she was now realizing that the seemingly private moments she and Grissom had shared were not as private as she had thought. As if there were legions of people watching, commenting and analyzing her every move.  
  
"Dr. Grissom?" The DA still wanted an answer.  
  
"I don't remember, but I'm sure there was context."  
  
"You had commented that baseball was a beautiful game," the DA read from his packet of papers. "Ms. Sidle asked 'Since when are you interested in beauty?' You replied 'Since I met you.'"  
  
There were a few sighs from the courtroom gallery and Wescott's heart momentarily grew three sizes that day.  
  
"You know what, don't answer that," said the DA. "I think your silence speaks for itself."  
  
Grissom was about to point out it was physically impossible for silence to speak, when the DA interrupted again. "Finally, Dr. Grissom: when you were working the Ashleigh James case, what made you go to the bridge where the victim's billboard was displayed?"  
  
"A hunch," answered Grissom, cautiously.  
  
"And when you arrived under the bridge, who did you find there?"  
  
"Sara--Ms. Sidle," Grissom responded, quietly.  
  
"So you discussed the case?" the DA wondered.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Did you...synchronize your movements in a perfect expression of Geek Symmetry?" the DA read aloud.  
  
"I...don't even know what that means." Grissom was bewildered.  
  
The DA explained. "A particularly enthusiastic group of eyewitnesses described how you talked about animals seeking symmetry in their mates and how you and Ms. Sidle stood and moved in a symmetrical fashion while joining hands and singing 'Come What May' with Slim Shady and Mr. Fluffy -- oops, wrong page -- ah yes, your movements personified the symmetry you were describing later, as if your subconscious was telling you that Ms. Sidle was your perfect mate." The DA raised his eyes from the packet. "Any of this sound familiar?"  
  
"Ms. Wescott," the judge cut in, addressing the female defense attorney who was watching the proceedings while munching on microwave popcorn. "You don't want to object to any of this?"  
  
"No, Your Honor. The District Attorney is proving my case for me. Ms. Sidle gets emotionally involved with the men on her cases. I'm just enjoying the soap opera." She popped some more popcorn into her mouth to emphasize her point.  
  
"Aha!" cried the DA. "You would _think_ that's what I've been doing, but that's not true at all!"  
  
"Mr. District Attorney, save the antics -- this isn't 'Ed,'" the judge scolded.  
  
"Sorry. But Ms. Wescott is wrong. Ms. Sidle doesn't get emotionally involved with the men on her cases. She's in love with Gil Grissom and he's in love with her."  
  
The DA paused for the anticipated murmurs of the courtroom, but since that fact was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, the gallery remained decidedly silent. He continued. "Ms. Sidle has no feelings for Mr. Peddigrew. Therefore her testimony on the case before us is completely above reproach. Of course, she and Dr. Grissom should probably be brought before internal affairs, lectured, disciplined and possibly lose their jobs for their inappropriate behavior, but Ms. Sidle's credibility on this case cannot be questioned!" the DA finished with a flourish -- momentarily forgetting the judge's rebuke, that none of them were indeed on 'Ed.'  
  
"I agree. This case is bound over for trial," said the judge.  
  
"But I never got to testify!" protested Catherine, having been placed on the figurative back burner in the rear of the courtroom.  
  
"We have all we need. You're free to go," said the judge, pounding his gavel to signal the hearing was over.  
  
Grissom left the stand and went to find the rest of his team. Catherine cut him off. "I'm not letting your un-'ship eat up my valuable screentime!" she informed him, before stalking off to have another affair with a building inspector and make sure everybody knew exactly who had the most active sex life in the Las Vegas Crime Lab.  
  
After she'd gone, Grissom walked over to where Sara was standing. "Sara," he murmured. "I love you."  
  
"Oh, brother." Sara rolled her eyes and the two of them walked out of the courtroom, to the deafening (no pun intended) clickety-clack of the keys on a million keyboards and the joyous roar of millions of collective voices raised together in cyberspace.  
  
The End. 


End file.
